


Inevitable

by daydreamer10101



Category: Smallville
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5180438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamer10101/pseuds/daydreamer10101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An awkward encounter sets Lois and Clark on a path into unfamiliar territory. Well, it was always going to happen eventually. Clois. AU Season 8.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. C for Crazy (and copy machines)

She blamed it on the psycho-chick.

Well, why wouldn't she? After all, it was the psycho-chick who had been babbling on about the so-called 'bond' that existed between she and Clark, and how he was in some way attracted to her. It was the crazy redhead's fault for putting such ideas into their heads to begin with. If she hadn't, it never would have happened, not in a million years.

Lois huffed irritably into her hands

It was late when Lois had made her way through the Daily Planet basement and into the women's bathroom, her adrenaline still pumping from the crazed meteor bimbo who had flipped her freakin' car like it was nothing and then proceeded to take on an entire swat team only to disappear before her eyes. She wasn't sure why Clark's elevator buddy had suddenly vanished when she had seemed so dead-set on taking out who she had deemed 'the competition'. Honestly, Lois' mind was still wrestling with that whole 'being the competition' part as she rinsed some of the blood off her forehead.

"You may not know it yet, but there's a bond," the redhead had snarled as Lois had crawled out of the wreckage of her car. "I saw it on your face when you saw us together—you feel it too."

Lois gripped the side of the sink, studying her own face in the mirror. Sluttyanna wasn't the first person to mention the so-called bond between she and Clark, but her comments had struck a chord that Lois wasn't entirely comfortable with. She had always made it a point not to think of Clark in that way. When she'd first arrived in Smallville, she'd been all too aware of Chloe's feelings for him, and had quickly picked up on the tense drama that existed between him and Lana. Lots of girls had seemed head over heels for Clark over the years, but Lois had never been one of them. Sure, he was gorgeous, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had a dream or even a fantasy or two where he played the lead role. And yeah, those dreams had increased in frequency over the years, but for god's sake, she'd met the guy when he was naked—it was only natural, really. Not to mention that besides being utterly hot, he really was one of the sweetest guys she'd ever met, albeit a bit naive and sometimes infuriating. He was her best friend, someone she really cared about, but she'd never thought about him as more than that.

But she also couldn't deny the reaction she had had to seeing Clark getting hot and heavy with some sex-crazed psycho in the elevator. She hadn't felt the embarrassment of one friend stumbling on another's intimate moment. She hadn't felt the disgust of someone walking in on a brother-figure. She'd felt white hot jealousy, and an inexplicable sense of betrayal. It had hurt seeing him with someone else, and that raised a big red flag in her mind. She couldn't think like that, especially when it was extremely unlikely that Clark would feel the same way.

If she felt anything, that is. Which she didn't.

Although, she couldn't help but remember, psycho-chick had mentioned that Clark shouldn't have been able to pull away, and had only overcome the spike in hormones because of some attraction to her...

"Knock it off, Lane," she said aloud to her reflection. "Since when do you listen to homicidal meteor freaks, anyway?"

After checking herself for injuries once more—aside from the cut on her forehead and a couple of bruises, she was fine and had definitely seen worse days—she grabbed her coat, and made her way back into the empty bullpen, tossing her jacket onto her desk. Everyone had long since went home for the night, but she figured now was as good a time as any to type up a few paragraphs for her article before heading home, and she may as well start while the details were still fresh. She hadn't gotten much further than the opening line when she heard her name.

"Lois."

She turned to see Clark standing a few feet away, his expression equal parts concern and uncertainty.

"Clark," she said, proud of herself for sounding steady and not portraying any of the confusing emotions running rampant throughout her. "What are you doing back here?"

"I came back to talk to you and heard about what happened outside," he said. "Lois, are you okay?"

She tried not to focus too much on his genuine concern over her well being—anything outside their typical back and forth felt a little too close for comfort right now—and went straight for her old friend, witty banter.

"Why, because your girlfriend tried to kill me? I know I told you to look outside your wheelhouse, Smallville, but I didn't think you'd go from damsel-in-distress to full-on Fatal Attraction," she rolled her eyes. Her jab seemed to do the trick, and the concern turned into familiar frustration.

"She's not my girlfriend," he said, sounding exasperated. "I didn't even know her. She had some sort of control over me—"

"I bet she did," she replied, her words dripping in sarcasm.

"Lois, she was a—a meteor freak, remember? It was an overdose of hormones like all those other men. I couldn't control it. Why do you care so much, anyway?" he demanded, staring at her intently.

His words brought her up short. Right. Caring was sort of the opposite of what she was trying to portray. She stood up and grabbed a handful of papers off her desk.

"I don't! And you know what? I'm done with this conversation, I have an article to work on."

"Lois—"

"Clark, seriously. We really don't need to talk about this."

"Lois, you seemed upset, and I just-"

"For the last time," she yelled whirling on him to jab him in the chest, "I don't care what you do with your love life! Make out with any girl you want. Hell, go find elevator girl and pick back up where you started! Just leave me alone!"

She realized belatedly as she finished her tirade that they had seriously invaded each other's personal space for the second time that night. His breath, labored from yelling, was fanning her face and she could feel his chest brush against hers with every breath. His blue eyes were dilated and fixed on hers, and she saw his eyes dart down to her lips for a brief moment.

She wasn't sure who moved first, but suddenly their mouths were crashing together, one hand cupping the back of her neck while the other tugged her closer by the waist. Lois kissed him back with just as much fervor, her hands anchoring in his thick black hair as she nipped at his lower lip. She felt his tongue against the seam of her lips and granted him access, moaning as he explored her mouth. They parted only when air was absolutely necessary, but instead of pulling away as she half expected, Clark's mouth migrated to her neck, and she found herself being backed up against the copy machine.

Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice whispered that she should stop, walk away now before things got any more complicated. Another part of her wondered if Clark was still suffering from the heightened endorphins and had somehow managed to pass the meteor power's effect on to her from his kiss, but when his mouth found hers again, she found she really couldn't care.

It was only when she bumped up against something else and heard the sounds of glass shattering that she pulled away in surprise, her eyes going to the broken remains of a coffee mug on the floor. Her gaze swept back up to find Clark staring back at her, looking equally stunned.

Oh my god. Lois felt her face become instantly hot. What had she done?

"I have to go," she blurted out. She was pretty sure that she saw Clark open his mouth to speak, but she was out of the room and into the elevator before he could speak. As the elevator doors shut she could see him staring at her with a confused look from across the room, still standing in the exact same spot she'd left him before he disappeared from view.

_Holy shit._

She leaned back against the wall and pressed her hands to her eyes. What the hell happened back there? she thought to herself.

She wasn't exactly sure, but she blamed it on the psycho-chick.


	2. Wine and Whitesnake

Clark stood off to the side of the bustling engagement party, his gaze fixed not on the happy couple being celebrated, but rather on the gorgeous maid of honor across the room. He knew he should be focused on celebrating his friends' engagement and making sure the night went smoothly, but instead all he could think about was a copy room and the cousin of the bride-to-be. Clark felt his cheeks redden slightly at the memory. He never would have expected what had happened between them that night. Weeks later, he was still trying to come to terms with the fact that it hadn't all been a dream. Of course, from the way Lois was acting, it very well could have been.

It had been just over two weeks since their encounter in the basement of the Daily Planet, and though he'd made several attempts to talk to her about it, she had managed to evade him nearly every time. He would barely get the words 'we need to talk' out of his mouth before she would cut him off with some sudden errand—usually some maid of honor duties or a lead for a story. A few days prior, he had finally managed to corner her in the elevator in an attempt to discuss what had happened. He remembered the way her eyes had widened when he had darted into the elevator just before the doors closed.

_Her surprised expression quickly morphed into a forced cheerful smile. "Hey Smallville, calling it a day?"_

_Clark didn't reply, instead he gave her a determined look, and reached out to hit the emergency stop button. He saw her tense as he turned back towards her, his arms crossing over his chest. "You're avoiding me."_

_"I'm not avoiding you, I've been busy," she argued stubbornly. "The news waits for no one, remember? You're imagining things."_

_"I didn't imagine us making out in the copy room."_

_Lois looked momentarily thrown by the bluntness of his words._

_"Lois," he began again awkwardly, rapidly losing his steely resolve, "we have to talk about it."_

_"No, we don't," she said firmly._

_Frustrated, he demanded, "Why are you so determined to pretend it never happened?"_

_"Because it shouldn't have happened," she blurted out, looking exasperated. "Look Smallville, you were flying high on endorphins and I'd just barely avoided becoming a smear on Main street. I don't think either of us were in our right minds."_

_As she spoke, she reached out and pressed the panel for the elevator to continue. She turned back to him, her face resolute. "Let's just chalk it up as another 'c' for crazy meteor freak encounter and call it a day."_

_The doors to the elevator slid open and gave him a bright—and fake, he noted—smile. "See you around, Smallville."_

That was the last time they had had anything close to a discussion on the matter. For a while, he had thought that maybe she was right after all—maybe their encounter really had been an endorphin charged accident better put behind them. Despite their bickering and insistences to the otherwise, he and Lois actually were good friends, and truthfully, there was a part of him that would have been relieved to pretend it had never happened. Lois had long been the one uncomplicated part of his life. No matter what he did, she was always there to set him straight, to tell him to get over himself, and to make him laugh. Lois made him feel normal in a confusing, messy world filled with aliens, meteor freaks, and a murky destiny. There was a part of him that was very much afraid to ever venture beyond that reassuring comfort zone for fear of losing the friendship he had come to depend on.

However, Clark couldn't deny that after watching guy after guy approach her at Chloe's engagement party, he was feeling less platonic friendship and a bit territorial. He watched as, for the fourth time that night, one of Jimmy's friends tapped her on the shoulder. Clark watched intently as she smiled and gently rebuffed the man's advances. The man smiled good naturedly in response as Lois patted his arm and moved past him.

Clark noticed her slight stumble as she moved to walk away from the bar and was at her side almost instantly, his hand at her elbow.

"Smallville," Lois said in surprise, whirling around suddenly. Her mouth formed a goofy grin, and he couldn't help but smile back...it was the first time she had really smiled at him in two weeks. He'd missed that, despite it being prompted by an overindulgence in wine.

"Lois," he said, grabbing her arm to steady her. "I think it's time to go home."

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry," the blond guy said, his eyes darting between the two of them. He gave Clark an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to be that guy."

Clark's eyebrows knit together in confusion before he realized what the other man meant. He was beginning to realize how often people made that same mistake about the two of them. He opened his mouth to correct him, but he had already turned and disappeared back into the crowd.

"I know Smallville shuts down by 9," Lois said with arched eyebrows, a teasing smile on her lips, "but here in the big city the party's just getting started."

"Somehow I don't think Chloe and Jimmy are going to turn their engagement party into an all-night event," he pointed out. "Besides Lois, half the guests have already started to leave."

"Oh." She looked around in surprise and then sighed. "Well let's go then. The Talon isn't that far of a drive and I'd like to be asleep before the happy couple comes home to...celebrate."

Clark wasn't sure whether to laugh at the exaggeratedly disturbed face she'd made at the term 'celebrate' or cringe with her at the mental image. "Actually, you're going to come back to the farm with me, that way Chloe and Jimmy can have some time alone."

She looked up at him through squinted eyes, suspicion in her gaze. "You're not trying to get me into bed or something, are you?"

Clark choked on his spit at her direct question and glanced around to make sure no one else had heard her. Thankfully, both Chloe and Jimmy were well out of earshot, thanking guests by the doors as they left. When he turned back to Lois, she was still rambling away.

"I mean sure, we just made out last time but I remember what you were doing with your tongue and with something like that it's easy for one thing to lead to another..." she was saying, looking thoughtful as she swayed in place.

"Lois!" he interrupted her, his voice coming out an octave higher than normal. "Look, let's get your stuff and head to the farm. You can take my old bedroom."

The slight redirection seemed to do the trick. She brightened up and patted his arm. "Glad you're finally on board with our old sleeping arrangements. And I think you mean my bedroom. Come on, Smallville, first one to the car gets to pick the music!"

Clark shook his head, following her unsteady footsteps towards the exit. This was going to be a long drive.

One hour, 12 country songs, and countless protests from Lois later—"Clark I can't listen to another song about trucks, I'll throw up."—Clark pulled to a stop in front of the Kent farm. He opened the passenger door of the truck, catching Lois just before she tumbled out onto the ground.

"Oh!" she made a tiny noise of surprise, looking at the ground just a foot away. When Clark straightened up with her in his arms, Lois' look of surprise turned into a drunken grin. "Nice catch, Smallville."

He couldn't help but smile back, unconsciously pulling her closer to him. He set her down gently on her feet, suppressing another smile when, rather than pull away like he expected. she looped her arm through his. She tilted her head back, staring up at the stars as he began to lead her towards the house. She was humming a familiar song under her breath, swaying a little as her eyes tracked the sky overhead. He wondered what she was thinking, but she quickly snapped back to reality the minute they walked in the door to the kitchen.

"Time to get out of these torture devices," Lois said suddenly, kicking her heels across the kitchen floor.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked, watching one shoe slide towards the fridge.

"I know you wouldn't know this, because you specialize mostly in flannel, but the best part of wearing formal clothes is being able to take them off at the end of the night," she said matter-of-factly. Without warning, she suddenly reached down the hem of her dress and began trying to pull it over her head.

"Lois!' Clark yelped. He quickly thrust his old championship jersey into her hands, halting her attempt to undress.

Lois squinted at him in confusion, then down at the jersey. "Did you have this with you a minute ago?"

"Yeah of course," he lied. Truthfully, he had sped upstairs to grab something for her to wear in a panic. Drunk Lois was one thing to handle—half naked drunk Lois would be quite another.

"I'll uh, give you some privacy," he said, ducking around the corner into the living room. He leaned his back against the wall, feeling hot around the collar. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else, he didn't know. Instead of examining it too closely, he set about making up his old bedroom for her, replacing the sheets with fresh linens.

When some time had passed without hearing from her, he made his way back downstairs to the living room. He began to hear the familiar opening strains of one of Lois' favourite songs coming from the kitchen. Clark poked his head into the room cautiously. Lois was standing by the kitchen counter in his championship jersey, poking at her cell phone. Being a good friend, he chose to dutifully ignore the way his jersey ended mid-thigh on her long legs, and instead addressed her sudden need for 80s hair metal. "Lois, why are we listening to Whitesnake?"

"I'm trying to get that god awful country music out of my head," Lois said cheerfully. "I know you're a farmboy and all, but you really need to start appreciating someone other than George Strait."

"Lois," he began, but whatever he was about to say died in his throat as she began to sway side to side to the beat, eyes closed as she listened to the music. He watched, equal parts amused and fascinated.

 _"I don't know where I'm going_ ," she sang, sliding from one end of the kitchen to the other, whipping her hair back and forth. " _But I sure know where I've been._ "

She grabbed his hand and twirled around, her chocolate colored hair hitting him square in the face. Clark felt laughter bubbling up in his chest at her antics, allowing himself to be pulled around the kitchen with her as she danced. Her face was carefree in a way he couldn't remember having before, and her giddiness was starting to become contagious. She closed her eyes and bobbed to the music, but he didn't take his eyes off her face.

 _"Here I go again on my oowwwnnn,_ " she sang. " _Goin' down the only road I've ever known!_ C'mon Smallville," she said with a nudge.

Clark sighed, unable to resist her enthusiasm, before half-heartedly singing along, " _Like a drifter I was born to walk alone._ "

"Clark!" she punched him in the shoulder, looking delighted. "You know the words!"

"Yeah well, how could I not?" he said with a laugh. "You once gave me a whole CD dedicated Whitesnake."

Lois looked momentarily confused before realization dawned on her face. She stopped dancing and looked at him curiously. "You listened to that?"

"Yes, well," he shrugged. "I mean, you made it for me..."

"When I was high on love potion and stalking you," she pointed out.

"You weren't so bad," he said absently, semi-hoping she'd continue her sing-along. "You were sort of sweet."

His statement seemed to sober her somewhat, her look of drunken giddiness fading. He paused, wondering exactly what he had said to change her mood. She took a small step towards him, her eyes never leaving his. She was staring at him intently, her expression unreadable, and he watched her, curious. Her lips parted slowly, but whatever she was about to say to him was lost when she suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Lois?" he said in confusion.

With speed that impressed even him, Lois went running up the stairs and into the bathroom. Clark grimaced when he heard the sounds of her retching. Slowly, he made his way up the stairs and into the bathroom to find her hovering over the toilet, her head in her hands. Clark grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cool water. She moaned when he touched her shoulder.

"Why did you let me have that many glasses of wine?" she mumbled.

Clark smoothed some of her hair back off her sweaty forehead and chuckled quietly, applying the cool cloth to her skin. "Lois, you and I both know that there's no way I could ever make you do anything."

"True," she grunted, gently pushing his hand away as she dove for the toilet once more. He grabbed her hair and prepared for a long night, wincing in sympathy as she was sick. About an hour later, after she had been sick several more times and he had cleaned up the bathroom, he found her laying on the couch, hugging the couch cushions.

"Lois," he said, gently waking her. "I'm going put you to bed."

He leaned down and began to lift her, freezing when she let out a distressed moan.

"Don't," she groaned, clenching her eyes shut. "World's spinning."

Clark acquiesced, laying her on the couch rather than heading up the stairs. Lois gave a small sigh of relief once she was horizontal, immediately burying her face back into the couch cushion. Clark smiled softly at the sounds of quiet snores and sped upstairs to the linen closet, grabbing the warmest quilt he could find before returning to the living room and covering her with it.

He pulled the blanket up a little higher around her shoulders, and sat for a minute across from where she slept, taking her in. She looked younger curled up on the couch, her hair messy and her face relaxed. It was the most peaceful he had seen her in weeks, and he found himself somewhat inexplicably missing her. He had spent the last two weeks with a distant, awkward version of her, and he sorely missed the Lois who spent her mornings stealing his coffee, who teased him and dragged him around to various leads, imparting her own experience and rules along the way. He missed her, and everything about her.

After a few more moments, he stood to leave. He was surprised when he suddenly felt Lois' hand grab his.

"'M sorry," Lois mumbled, snuggling further into her pillow.

Clark paused, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "What are you sorry for?" he asked softly.

"Sorry that you had to deal with me tonight," was all she said. He shook his head, unsurprised. Lois was always uncomfortable with being taken care of, even when she needed it. Especially when she needed it.

"Lois, there's no other way I would have wanted to spend the night," he told her. He realized with a jolt that though he had meant it as a light joke, in a way he was being quite genuine. They had finally spent time together without it being awkward, and despite the fact that most of their night had been spent in a bathroom, it was the most fun he'd had in weeks. He heard her laugh quietly.

"'M sorry for the other thing too," she sighed.

Before he had the chance to ask her exactly what that meant, he heard her soft snores once more. Pulling the quilt up around her shoulders once more, he turned out the lights and left her to sleep. He stepped into his room and hesitated briefly, speeding downstairs just long enough to lay out several bowls around the living room before climbing into bed. He smiled to himself as he heard Lois mumble in her sleep downstairs.

Just in case.


	3. Aftermath

Lois flicked through the channels absentmindedly, bypassing the dramas and cheesy romantic comedies that were typical of Friday night television. She briefly wished she had something more exciting to do on a Friday night than channel surf, but her last date had been over a month ago, and with Chloe and Jimmy spending the night in Metropolis, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to enjoy the apartment to herself—something that had become a very rare occurrence.

She paused on a familiar looking movie with Tom Hanks, and quickly recognized it as The Green Mile. She made a face. As much as she enjoyed that particular movie, she'd had enough of electric chairs for one week.

The thought made her lower the slice of pizza she'd salvaged from the fridge. She had been actively trying not to think about what had happened yesterday without much luck. The more she tried to put it out of her mind, the more she thought about it, until it was practically the only thing she'd been able to focus on all day.

She had said she loved Clark Kent. In front of him. And it had been the truth.

She remembered the look of shock on his face when she'd said it and it had registered as the truth. In all honestly, she had been just as surprised; she had known for a while now that her feelings for Clark went beyond just platonic—their encounter in the copy room had proved that. But she had never dwelled on those thoughts for too long, never examined them too closely for fear of what she might discover. Despite their teasing and banter, Clark was the best friend she had. She didn't want to complicate things or ruin their friendship in any way. And when that shock-happy psychopath had asked her if she loved him, she had been forced to confront all the things she had been pushing away. The answer had surprised her too: she loved him. In the hours that followed, she had tried to reason her way through it. Of course she loved Clark, she'd thought. He was her best friend, practically family. There was nothing wrong with loving your friends—it was only natural.

Denial, however, only went so far. She had known what the jeweler meant when he said love. When she answered, a part of her knew she wasn't talking about the kind of familial love she had for Chloe or Mrs. Kent, or the affectionate, platonic love she felt for someone like Jimmy (not that she'd ever admit that last one). When she said she loved Clark Kent, she meant the sappy, frustrating, can't-stop-thinking-about-him-and-his -smile-and-how-much-she'd-love-to-kiss-it-off-his-stupid-handsome-face kind of love.

Not that he knew that. When Clark had finally cornered her this morning in the elevator and brought up the test, she had smoothly lied that she had slipped off the sensor before answering the question. He had bought it hook, line, and sinker.

_Thank god._

Lois looked up at the sound of a knock at the door. Strange, she hadn't been expecting anyone. Frowning slightly, she made her way to the doorway and opened the door halfway.

Clark Kent stood on the other side of the door, a brown paper bag—that smelled suspiciously like her favourite Chinese takeout—in his hands.

"Smallville," she said in surprise, faithfully ignoring the way her heart suddenly seemed to stutter in her chest. "What are you doing here?"

Clark smiled and held up the bag. "I was in the neighborhood picking up supper and I thought you might be hungry. You didn't eat yet, did you?"

"Not unless you count a slice of leftover pizza that's been in the fridge so long I can't even remember when I ordered it," she shrugged, snatching the bag from his hands with a grin. "Besides, who am I to say no to Smallville's finest Chinese cuisine?"

She turned on her heel, making her way towards the kitchen and leaving him standing empty handed in the doorway. Shaking his head in amusement, he followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

"I didn't see you much at work today," he said, following her into the living room.

Lois grabbed a container full of chow mein and dug in. "Yeah, I got a tip about the bodies found down in the business district last week. Spent the whole day trying to confirm whether or not someone had actually seen anything. Sorry, did you want some of this?"

"I'm okay," he said, smiling at the already half eaten takeout box. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing but rumors. Someone reported seeing a thin white male lurking around the area before the murders, but that's basically the description of every serial killer ever," she shrugged. "I'll keep looking, but so far I've got nothing substantial."

He nodded in agreement, and they fell into companionable silence for a few moments before he looked around and asked, "Where are Chloe and Jimmy tonight? Must be nice to have the apartment to yourself."

"Yeah, well they decided to give the engagement celebrations one last shot. Let's just hope this time it ends with a little less abduction and electrocution," Lois said dryly. Clark shot her a sharp look out of the corner of his eyes, and she froze momentarily. Damn. She had sort of hoped to avoid the topic of their own abduction and the ensuing awkward aftermath.

There was another moment of silence as they both watched the black and white movie playing on the TV. Lois was beginning to think that he was just going to let the reference pass before he suddenly spoke up.

"Lois, why did you say yes?" he asked abruptly.

Lois froze, her forkful of noodles still in her mouth. "Wha?"

"I was just wondering," he continued, watching her curiously. "Why did you say yes if you had slipped the sensor off your finger? The answer wouldn't have mattered."

She chewed slowly, buying herself time. The noodles felt like a lump in her throat, and she was very aware of Clark's gaze on her. Swallowing with some difficulty, she said with forced bravado, "Think about it Smallville—I had to tell him what he wanted to hear. He let Chloe and Jimmy go because he was convinced they loved each other. I was just buying us some time by playing the part."

Clark nodded absently before he said, "But you didn't know why he released Chloe and Jimmy until later."

"Look, what does it matter? I thought it would keep the psychotic guy from killing us both. I don't understand why you want to keep talking about it." Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her glass and made her way to the kitchen under the pretense of getting a refill.

Clark ran his hand through his hair in frustration and followed her into the kitchen. "Lois I'm not trying to upset you."

Lois sighed. "You aren't upsetting me, Smallville. I just don't know why you want to keep talking about what happened. What does it matter what I said? We got out alive."

Her question seemed to give him pause, and he cast his eyes downward. She relaxed at that. Wondering why he was so preoccupied with why she had said she loved him would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable enough to back off, and then she could—

He kissed her suddenly, catching her off guard. She froze in place, eyes wide as he continued to kiss her, his hands reaching up to cup her face.

Lois had experienced some pretty great kisses in her life. One of which, she had to admit, had occurred in a copy room not so long ago with the same man. But while that encounter had been particularly memorable itself, this was something altogether entirely—even better than their kiss in the Daily Planet. This wasn't frenzied, full of adrenaline and a myriad of emotions. This was slow and deliberate, focused, like he had nowhere to be and nothing else to do than stand in this kitchen, kissing her.

She might kick herself for it later, but she couldn't help it. She melted into the kiss, her hands reaching up to cover his. She sighed softly as he parted her lips with his own, her hands moving up to anchor in his hair. It felt incredible.

This is dangerous.

She broke the kiss, leaning her forehead against his in a brief moment of intimacy that made his stomach flutter. She pulled away a moment later to look him in the eyes.

"Clark," she said softly, her voice sounding shaky. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. He felt a bit unsteady himself. He hadn't really planned on kissing her, it had just sort of...happened.

He watched as her eyes began to grow distant at his answer; he could practically see the walls building back up in her mind. He reached out to grab her shoulders. "Lois, I don't know. I can't explain it, I just... There's something going on here, right? I'm not imagining it."

Lois crossed her arms, looking to the side as she admitted, "No, you're not, but..."

"But what?"

The look she gave him was exasperated. "Smallville, this isn't us. We don't make-out or have weird tension. We bicker and disagree and—" she gestured wildly, searching for the words, "—and I'm not Lana."

Clark recoiled visibly, looking taken aback. His hands dropped from her shoulders. "I never said that you were."

"Smallville, I just need time to think, okay?" Her eyes locked onto his. "I think you do too."

Clark nodded, grabbing his coat and making his way to the door. He looked back briefly to see her standing in the middle of the kitchen, her arms around her middle and a distant expression on her face as she watched him go. Shutting the door behind him, he sped downstairs and out the door into the alley beside the coffee shop. He'd kissed her. Again. That wasn't the plan. He hadn't even come to her apartment with plans of discussing the incident with the jeweler. He had only come to check on her. Despite her claims to the contrary, hadn't missed how shaken up she had been the night before, and thought it was best to make sure she actually was doing as well as she was insisting she was after their abduction. He had only meant to be a good friend. Leaning up against the wall of the alley with a frustrated sigh, he ran his hands roughly through his hair, debating whether or not to turn around and go back inside, to try to talk it through.

No, he thought eventually. Lois was right. Whatever was going on between them, they needed to stop and think things through before anything else happened. They were treading into dangerous territory already. He would give her time; maybe he needed it too.

A familiar ringtone emanated from his pocket and he picked up immediately, half hoping it was Lois.

"Hello?"

_"So are we going to talk about you proposing to my ex-girlfriend, or what?"_


End file.
